


Broken Machine

by teaandcardigans



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional, F/M, First Kiss, Fix It Fic, Talking, post 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcardigans/pseuds/teaandcardigans
Summary: Post Episode 2x10. (Harry POV)An alternative version of how the events of episode 2x10 could have gone.Harry leaves the command centre, frustrated, angry and has an invite from Abigael waiting for him. But there is something holding him back.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 15
Kudos: 76





	Broken Machine

Harry braced himself against the door to the command centre as it slammed closed behind him. His body felt as though it was on fire. There was a rage that was building inside of him with nowhere to go. It had been happening more and more frequently and he had continued to try to ignore it. 

He could feel it burning through him when he threw Ray against the wall of the hotel room. A rage burning through him that there were another demon playing games with them. And then when it had turned out to be their actual father, and that he had stolen from a dead woman the rage had built up again. 

There was usually something holding him back, but it was like the lid had been let off and there was nothing to keep this rage in check. 

He could feel it building again when he had seen Macy with that billionaire, laughing, happy. The happiest he had seen her in weeks. And he knew that she deserved this, she deserved to be this happy, but there was that resentment that it wasn’t him that she was smiling at, that made her feel happy and wanted, but some stranger. 

His hand clasped in a fist by his side, released when Mel, pulled on his arm, pulling him out of his own thoughts and back to the matter at hand. 

It wasn’t a date she told him, but he knew better. He could see the way her face lighted up when she looked at the messages on her phone. 

He hadn’t lied to her when he told her that kissing Abigael was ‘a moment’ but nothing more. It felt almost like it was another person who had been down in that library with her. Who had her fingers running against his scalp, lips moving against his own. It felt like a dream. 

Was Abigael what he deserved. A poor copy of what he truly desired. Someone that he could pour all his feeling into, knowing that she would never be enough., not even close. 

He sighed, looking back at the door, wondering whether it was too late to go back inside. But something stopped him. He looked down at his phone, a text from Abigael that had been there for hours unanswered, an invitation, back to her apartment. 

He concentrated on his destination feeling the environment around him start to dissipate as his body was pulled through space. His body jolted as his feet landed on solid ground and he took in his surroundings. 

It was a quiet night, quieter than it usually was. He moved to the bar, signalling to the bartender for a pint of ale, before taking a seat at the bar. He rested his elbows against the bar, his head falling into his hands. 

He felt as though he was starting to lose himself. Something had changed since they had come to Seattle, whether it was the Darklighter, the revelations found in the Book of Elders or something else entirely there was something that didn’t feel right. He had found comfort in the familiar feelings that he had for Macy a remaining constant, something that he could be sure of in this constant state of change. 

“You look like you just got dumped mate,” came the gruff voice of the bartender from behind the bar, as the glass was placed in front of him. He recognised the accent as of the lower class of London, a little too like his doppelganger for his liking.

“Something like that,” he answered, eyes focused on the frothy liquid in front of him as he took a sip.

“We get a lot of that in here,” the man answered with a chuckle, before returning to the other patrons of the bar. 

He finished his drink and considered ordering another before deciding against it. Alcohol had the tendency to make his orbing a little wonky and paired with his current state of emotions he could end up anywhere and he did not want to have to send the inevitable text to Mel or Maggie to come and portal to rescue him from his own drunken stupor. 

He looked down at his phone again the message from Abigael remained unanswered, and now had a companion, yet another request for him to come to her and he couldn’t deny that he felt the pull. Deep in his gut. Until Macy’s words resonated within him again. ‘She’s dangerous, Harry. I don’t want you getting hurt.’

At first, he had thought that perhaps while Macy didn’t want him she didn’t want anyone else to either, but that wasn’t Macy. She had only ever wanted the best for the ones that she loved. He should count himself lucky to be one of those people. 

He put the phone back in his pocket and left the bar, making his way to the alleyway where he could orb without risk of being seen. He appeared back at Safe Space, the office building largely quiet now, except for a few stragglers and he felt some concern about the apparent lack of security that was so plainly absent from the large building. He made he way back to the command centre, slightly relieved to find it empty. 

One blessing since Abigael had taken over as overlord was the dramatic decline in witches in danger, meaning that the vigilance with the map had given way, allowing them to focus their efforts on more pressing matters and looking at the bigger picture. Such as his darklighter’s return, and where Ray was giving all these artefacts to. 

“Harry?” A confused voice called out to him as he turned to see Macy entering from the library, a cup of tea in hand, as well as a book of spells. 

“Macy, I thought you would have-” he was sure that she wouldn’t still be here, that she would have taken the opportunity to go to him. Him and the simplicity that he represented. Whether she would maintain the pretence when she returned about simply ‘distracting’ him. 

“I was going to,” she tells him, placing her cup and book on the table, near the portal and map console. 

There was a thudding in his chest, those emotions and feelings starting to become dominating and powerful. The jealousy rising up in him that she had considered going to him. 

“I wanted to, but something held me back.” She looked up at him, her eyes soft, where he had expected to find a harshness that he deserved, that he had earnt. “You know, you told me that I know how you feel about me,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding his gaze as she looked down, deep breath in before they met his again. “But I have no idea.”

Her words hit him like a freight train. How could she not? He had worshipped the ground that she walked on, seizing on every moment that allowed him a contact that was beyond what he should, she had even read it in his own mind while consumed by the raw power of the source. 

“You’ve never told me, Harry. How you feel. The only evidence I have ever had of your feelings is you kissing another woman. Someone we don’t trust, that is dangerous, someone who could very well get us killed.” Her head dropped again, “Could get you killed.” 

She shook her head before looking up again, and he could see that she was waiting for him to say something. Those words that had been swirling around in his mind for so long now they had almost become a part of him. She was waiting for him because she was right he hadn’t told her. Hadn’t let loose all those emotions and words that could never even come close to describing what he felt for her. He couldn’t even pinpoint where they had started, whether it had been when he had first accompanied to Galvin’s party, when he was trapped with her in that damn television show, or when he had seen her accept a part of herself that she was terrified of but had the strength to confront it. 

His hand reaches out for hers, his thumb tracing over her knuckles, finding comfort in the warmth of her skin, acutely aware of how distant they have been lately, and how much he has missed the simple touch of her skin against his own. 

“Macy, I care,” he took a deep breath, the words feeling caught in his throat. Even now as she looks up at him expectantly he can’t help the nagging self-doubt that he isn’t good enough for her, that he will never be the man she so deserves. “I care deeply about you. More than I should. More than a friend, or a confidante.” 

He feels her hand tighten around his own as he says the words he has been holding in for so long, worried about how they would be received, that she would be horrified, that she might pity him, reject him, move on to something better and whole. 

“Harry, I have been confused for so long,” she admits, her other hand reaching for his, fingers running across his palm before intertwining with his own. “I was scared, that these,” she pauses and he can see it now the fear in her eyes. That the confessions to each other could turn everything upside down, that there could be so much more to risk. His hand moves to her shoulder, as it has so many times before. His thumb running over the material of her jumper, and instead of turning away, creating distance between them, she leans into his touch. 

“These feelings could change everything between us, and the thought, the simple thought that you might not return them. It was easier, to pretend that they could go somewhere else. That I could feel them for someone easier, less risky, but it didn’t work, because they were less.”

Her hand moved from his hand, up his forearm, leaving a blazing trail in its wake, and he is captivated. Her fingers move tentatively, brushing against his cheek as if she is testing herself, or him. He’s not sure but it feels more intimate than he could ever have imagined.

“I thought,”

“I know, and perhaps I should have said something, but-”

“Then you saw me. With-”

“Her,” her hand leaves his cheek and he misses the feel of her palm, the warmth of her skin as he can see her retreating inside herself again. That this could be another moment lost. 

“I didn’t lie, Macy, it was a moment, I, I was an idiot. A scared idiot.” He moves his hand to her waist, memorising each touch just in case he manages to screw this up royally and this is as close as he ever comes. 

Her eyes flit to where his hand rests, and he wonders if her heart is beating just as furiously as his is at the contact. 

“I want you,” he whispers, his other hand moving from her shoulder, where it has continued to trace patterns against the soft material of her jumper, to cup her face. “Only you.”

Macy is the one to take the final leap, her lips brushing gently against his as she leans into him. A touch so brief it could be barely be called a kiss, but if that was all it ever was he would be grateful for it, have it etched into his memories for a lifetime. But it wouldn’t be enough. 

This is further confirmed when she presses her lips against his again with more pressure, more urgency, and he grips onto her. Sinking everything he had and had been holding onto into the kiss. The rage inside that has been for so long just bubbling under the surface is sated, retreating away from the light that she offers. 

They break apart, and Harry can’t resist, brushing his lips against hers, the temptation to feel the softness of her lips once more too strong to fight against. He doesn’t think now whether it will ever be enough. A smile breaks across her lips, as her arms wrap around him and he feels the overwhelming sensation that this is exactly where he should be. 

And that those messages on his phone will forever remain unanswered. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You so much for reading, that last episode was a doozy and I just needed to write a happy ending for these too (despite the temptation to leave Harry broken hearted). I hope you enjoyed and let me know your thoughts.


End file.
